


Immaculate

by orphan_account



Category: Taeh, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Bad Boy Jimin, Blood, Bruises, Dun even know what genre this is bruh, Fluff, Love me some vmin, M/M, Really cool suga, Rich Jungkook, Strangers, vmin friendship, wound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8599252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Troublemaker Jimin meets Soft, rich Jungkook.





	1. Chapter 1

Blood, thick and dark poured out of his chapped knee. Jimin wasn't exactly proud of tripping on an escalator that moved downwards while he tried to run it up, falling once, twice before reaching the top. Too proud to go back and use the proper one just a few steps away. His knee landed on a step, metal cutting bone deep. Shaky leg, bloodied jeans, he was fighting back tears and looking for a quiet place without any witnesses to inspect the ridiculously serious damage caused to his leg.

Hidden by a parked jeep, sitting on a rather gigantic flower pot, one of those you couldn't possibly keep indoors nor in any normal sized garden, Jimin tried to lift his pants up one leg. thankfully, they were large enough today. High pitched whimpers left his mouth before he could hold them back. looking through his pockets, he couldn't find anything to dab the blood off with.

It flowed, a crimson fountain, glistening liquid rubies down his bruised shin. All that was left for him to do was stare and try closing the cut by pressing the walls together with his fingers from both sides of the wound. It only resulted in more pain, yelps and wettening eye corners. He was going to be late for the movie but his leg stinged. He couldn't possibly move without him whining like a dying dog. he rested his hands back on the pot's rim, lifting his head up and trying to breathe slowly. He didn't know how much of a sissy he could be until today. Halfway through the process of lowering his head, his eyes locked to the front. The Jeep wasn't empty. a boy was staring straight back at him from the passenger's seat. The door opened, he came out. a small bottle of water and tissues in his hands.

he walked to Jimin, stoping at a careful distance. He didn't say a word, only stared at the wound with something of a shimmer in his gaze.

"My eyes are up here?" he said in an amused tone, half-smirking, half grimacing at the waves of pain that wouldn't stop.

 

"sorry" he lifted his eyes swiftly before focusing back on the injury," It's just... I can see the bone holy shit." His short hair did a poor job at hiding the blood rushing to his ears and cheeks.  
He handed him the tissues and bottle not looking away from the copper colored spectacle, "this should help,right?" His hands were shaking, a frown deteriorating his features as if he could feel the pain in his own bone. Jimin opened the bottle spilling some of the content over his knee hissing at the contact and clogged the opening with some tissues making it burn even more.

"L-let me!"

Pinching the soaked tissues in between his index and thumb, he took them out of the mutilated area then wetted some fresh ones dabbing around the wound to clean the skin the best he managed.

Then, layering a few sheets and folding them neatly into a cushion, he made a pad to press against the critical part, stopping the bleeding. The whole proccess acompanied by mufled cries from jimin.

"Hold it for me"

He did as instructed, not without noticing a shaky lower lip in the boy's otherwise blank expression. he left him to go look for something inside the car, coming back with a roll of duct tape that made jimin flinch in fear of what was to come.

"I'm sorry, we're gonna have to improvise" he said kneeling down to return to his ministrations.

He was struggling with finding the start of the tape so Jimin snatched it away from his fumbling hands. "You really fucked up that knee pretty bad, might need some stitches" Jimin chuckled at the filthy words used by someone who otherwise could have been mistaken for a doll. Immaculate in every aspect. he handed him the tape back.  
"Meh" Jimin wasn't one to go to the hospital unless his life was a stake. Besides he liked collecting scars. Like most of his rebelious friends. Much to his disliking, his skin healed too quickly and too well, hardly ever leaving marks of past damage. this time however he might've just managed to decorate his knee for a life time.

He watched him circling his knee with the tape, trying to secure the whole concoction in place. He watched how his cross-shaped earings twinkled each time he cocked his head to one side or the other in concentration. Soft brown locks brushed past the tips of his ears and curtained above his lowered eyes, beneath them, spotless rosy cheeks.

Rich people even smelled differently.

Everything about him ticked Jimin off. The fact that he knew how to attend a wound better than him, that at first he looked terrified at the idea of coming closer to him. The soft, skyblue shirt, his hands, pale, nails neatly cut. His white pants turning brown where the knee rested on the ground, fingers sinking in tissues full of jimin's own filthy blood. The fact he'd offered help yet couldn't help shaking in fear, as though Jimin'd jump at him any second to harm him; raindeer eyes looking up at him alarmed from time to time, Trembling fingers awfully careful not to hurt Jimin anymore than he already was when he touched him.

He kept looking in between his reddened fingers he wouldn't clean and the mud on his knee he didn't seem to mind at all. Everything else, corresponded to Jimin's idea of a pampered child.

But not the filth he was comfortable with.

He grabbed the sullied hand harshly, wiping the blood off with his hoodie's sleeve. The boy tried to pull away but there was no escape from the iron grip.

"It's creepy, seeing my blood on your fingers" Jimin preferred not to look at his face, knowing all too well of what kind of emotions he'd read on it. "Fuck, it won't come off" feeling how he wasn't holding on too firmly now, he ceased the oportunity to retract his hand, putting it to his chest and covering it with the other in a defensive manner.

Jimin didn't like to admit it, but it hurt. Far more than his knee. The familiar feeling of repulsion left a bitter taste in his throat. And it awoke something beastly in him, a desire to correspond to the image people had of him, to confirm their worries, to give them a reason to tiptoe around him.

 

He took possession of the hand that slipped away pulling the boy to him roughly, his other hand landed on his wounded knee in an attempt to halt his fall forward. Jimin groaned at the sudden ache. His eyes shot up to Jimin's, terrified. It made him laugh silently, head low, shoulders shaking. "Ah... Shit, that really hurt."

He kept struggling in his grip, but jimin's fingers only laced around the wrist tighter, wondering if it'd leave any imprints on the soft flesh.

"What's wrong, regretting you came out of that Jeep?"

Jimin's face inched so close to the young man's that he could see himself in his big, dark eyes. His whole body froze, not daring to move anymore. He felt trapped, but it was more than just fear. Something that had made him leave the car despite knowing who sat outside, something thrilling in being in Jimin's direct proximity, something that stopped him from screaming for help when all the alarms in his head blared in shrilling tones.

 

A certainty that Jimin couldn't go any further than this, that he didn't even want to. They stood like that, him kneeling on the ground sitting on his calves, Jimin folded to level his face with the boy's. Both waiting for the other to make a move.

 

He relaxed in his hold until Jimin actually let go. Bruises were already forming a bracelet on his skin, he rubbed them glarring at Jimin for being the cause of it.

 

Just like that, the tension dissapeared as soon as it had come. Leaving an awkward silence behind.

 

Jimin wasn't sure anymore, wether the one sitting in front of him was afraid or not. Cautious, yes. But scared?

An unlocking sound came from the Jeep, Jimin could see a man accross the parking lot walking to them in large steps, keys in hand. He flicked one of the boy's earings with his index playfully and got up.

"I better go now" he winked before shoving his hands in his hoodie's pocket and walked away, dragging his left leg behind. No matter how fun it was to annoy rich kids, he wasn't ready to face their powerful parents nor any of their lawyers in navy blue suits.

 

"Go to the hospital, Park Jimin!" the  _rich kid_ shouted behind him, he just waved at him dismissingly, not even bothering to turn back.

 

  **So he did know who I am.**

 

 

Another thing he wouldn't admit today was that he liked how his name sounded when he called it.


	2. Chapter 2

Car rides with his father weren't particularly Jungkook's favourite activity and also one rarely practiced. Heavy silences and stiff conversations, holding back from humming the songs played on the radio until his father switched to some classical station. 

More than once, his father stole glances at Jungkook's muddy pants, not being sure how to formulate a simple question concerning that.

 

" A classmate?" He blurted out uneasily, patting himself on the back for managing to initiate the dialogue.

 

"Huh?'' 

 

He knew who he was talking about but feingning ignorance seemed like the right thing to do.

 

"That boy earlier..." 

 

"oh... Yeah" he lied. _Did Jimin even go to any school? He didn't look like he could be much older than me._

 

 

\---------

 

 

Though still registered, physically, he didn't exactly frequent any school. At least not since october 3 months ago. Not that he was seen attending classes all that often before that. He was waiting for the day he'd receive an expellment notice but it didn't seem to come for some reason. Perhaps did the teachers care so little about him that they forgot? It didn't bother him any more than that. 

 

What did worry him however, was his boss' reaction to him missing his shift at the cinema because of a stupid leg.

 

Oh well, he could simply return to his old job, he figured. With a little luck, Yoongi wouldn't yell too much before asking his father to take him back. They'd make him wake up at ass o'clock to clean the machines but he had a fucked up sleeping schedule anyway. 

 

carrying packed snacks was indeed less vomit inducing than transporting fish around the docs but at least fish didn't nag at you because you don't smile enough and didn't make you wear awfully orange uniforms.

 

He figured he'd regret it later but as often, he acted on a whim, typing a message to his current employer.

 

**// I quit, sorry. bye //**

 

A reply came in as soon as he sent it. 

 

**Taehyung: // Jimin, when's your shift over? We found some crazy shit with Suga hyung!!//**

The crazy shits usually were animal skulls found in the forest, stolen decorative swords or like last time, an old black board Taehyung's school threw away (of course he stole a few shalk boxes along.)

   
Jimin lived in the outskirts of the city in a rather decent sized house for someone who struggled to afford daily meals. A building who's owner was never seen, a door that Jimin put a lock on and anything the trio managed to gather as furniture filling the empty rooms. There was water, though cold. He read somewhere that it was good for the skin to bathe in low temperatures, that sufficed as consolation. He even had electricity, surprisingly. Whoever it was that still payed rent for this wreck, Jimin didn't plan on complaining about it to him.

  
_You should come live with me, Jimin. you can't carry on like this for much longer._

 

There was no chance he'd accept his mother's offer. Dissapearing for 12 years and suddenly claiming him back wasn't a scheme Jimin would play along with. Neither would he walk in his father's footsteps.

  
He could see Taehyung hanging over the fence leading to his house. Despite the few centimeters his friend surpassed him by, he couldn't consider him as anyone else but the kid following him around 3 years ago. The little guy who joined the boxing club Jimin used to go to. _One day I'll kick your ass!_ It made him laugh more than once but seeing Taehyung walking over to greet him, all broad shoulders and intimidating stature, he wondered if one day he might really become stronger than him.

 _Don't ruin him, Jimin.He's a good kid._ He knew that better than anyone and it did pain him when he found him snuggled on his torn sofa rather than at school. But it hurt even more to imagine a world where he'd be alone again. _He needs me_ , He kept telling himself to chase away any guilt. Who else but him could Tae run to when his parent's pressure became too much if not jimin? Exchanging a few punches worked better than anything else as a stress reliever.

Also, being friends with THE Jimin wasn't something just anyone could brag about.

 

 

  
\------------

Jungkook rushed to his room before his mother could complain about the ruined pants. He had a little more than 20 minutes to get ready for evening classes. He checked the inside of his wardrobe, something he had been doing for years and wondered why he only noticed today. 

he didn't own a single sweater, nor a pair of jeans. Every single piece he owned was chosen by his mother. Distinguished and absolutely not comfortable (save for the school's tracksuit.)

 

He'd go shopping tomorrow after school, he decided _. I'm not being influenced by him!_

_Maybe a little._

Choosing the most casual outfit manageable, he ran down the stairs dressed in all black. Straight pants and a large button up shirt from his brother. "You can keep it now that it touched your stinky skin." He was lounged accross the entirety of their longest couch, resting on his back with the fattest cat in town resting on his numb thighs. The newest episode of One piece was on screen and though he had already read what'd happen in the manga, his eyes sparkled like a toddler's.

"Very mature,Hyung , as expected from a law student" Jungkook replied in a sarcastic tone. "But thanks!"

 

"I'll tell mom you left the house looking like me."

  
Their mother would rage if she knew her most precious son looked anything but impeccable.

  
They both had about the same hair length and now that he stood in front of the mirror at the entry, he did note a stricking ressemblance, as if he was cosplaying him. He was much taller though. and no one could compete with the amount of styling gel he put in his hair.

 

  
"Your eyes are red, how about you read your textbooks instead of staring at that screen any longer?" he commented over his shoulder while tying his black leather shoes. 

 

"How about you talk to me with a little more respect? Shirt thief. Continue stealing stuff and you might become a real gangsta one day."

 

"I'll have you to defend me, right?"

 

  
"As if, I'll be the one to make sure you rot in jail, tsk."

 

Jungkook shaked his head slowly in disbelief.

  
"I bet you don't even attend those piano classes. You joined Jimin's gang, right?"

 

It was meant as a joke but it caught him off guard, "I'm leaving, bye!" He pretty much ran out of the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna add a little more paragraphs to this chapter as it seems short. Was kinda in a rush sorry :o Don't forget to check it up again a little later :°
> 
> thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

From all the bickering with his brother, he almost missed the bus. It wasn't really a problem, he could've called a taxi but Jungkook already stood out too much considering what kind of household he was a part of and the bus made him feel at ease. No one paying attention to him, whether he rode it or not the vehicle would still travel down the streets all the same dropping people off in the process, picking up others.

It was nice really, one of the only times he was in company of others. By others he meant, not his family, nor his parents’ fancy entourage or even his very own circle of acquaintances. No sons of doctors, no daughters of deputies, no national piano competition award winner. None of all those prestigious people. He didn’t hate them, well, some yes. But it made him crazy - to say the least- that he was completely isolated in this particularly restrictive part of society.

Jungkook blamed himself more than his parents. It's not like they were control freaks. He could, if he really tried, meddle in with the rest of the city he knew so little of. It was scary, the unknown always is. Between suffocating in comfort and daring to cross the line his parents drew around him, Jungkook cowardly chose the first option.

_I stepped on that line today, though._

 

By leaving the safe conscription of his father's car, he had jumped over a wall until then untouched.

He pulled his sleeve up to contemplate the bruises of violet and pink around the wrist, it had gotten darker. A blue, close to that of the deepest part of the sea he managed to dive in with untrained lungs, flourished where jimin’s thumb had digged in soft skin. It hurt when he pressed on it with curious fingers.

 

_How much damage could he cause to someone if he really meant it?_

 

-Did you hear? A girl seated in front of jungkook whispered to the boy wearing the same uniform as her, Jaehyun was sent to hospital with a dislocated shoulder and inner bleeding.

 

\- Yeah, he said enthusiastically. Bro told me he got into a fight last night, do you think it was -

 

\- Of course! She cut him off. Who else could beat him to a pulp, have you seen Jae? That dude is a mountain!

 

The bus was where Jungkook's ears were kept wide open to catch any bit of information, rumors or reality about events he could, otherwise, never be linked to. It was more interesting than any book he ever read.

 

Stories of first loves, angry bosses, latest fashion trends, sick relatives, whispered songs, children’s questions, parents’ answer.

 

But mainly Jimin.

 

Who he beat up this time, what damage he inflicted him, why he did it, what he recently sprayed on some of the most official walls. What he broke, what he stole, how many cigarettes a day he could smoke, how his voice sounded, how many piercings he had, how many scars, that he owned a motorcycle, he owned car, he owned none of that, was homeless, he lived with an older woman. Allegations flew all over the place building and decomposing images of him in Jungkook’s head.

 

Jimin, this city’s very own monster. The dark sheep people preferred to avoid. His name the main whisper on anyone’s lips. From those who knew him to those who never saw him.

 

-That guy’s crazy...The boy said shaking his head.

\- But so hot… she added in a dreamy voice.

-How would you know?

\- I saw him refilling the soda machine with ice cubes at the movie theater when I went to see The Avengers, she held her cheeks in her two hands closing her eyes to visualise him better. Ah… he looked so cool with his strong arms...

 _Oh yeah, those arms have shit loads of strength, Jungkook thought to himself rubbing at his wrist_.

-... And his pretty dark bangs.

\- Mari, could you stop taking about other men right in front of me?

-Oh, but the best! She pointed at the part of the body she was about to enunciate. His lips, they were so- the boy pressed his palm against her mouth.

\- I get it, he’s hot, whatever. He’s still a freak.

They exited the bus quietly when it halted, leaving Jungkook to proceed the new information:

1\. Jimin sent someone to the hospital.

2\. Jimin worked at the cinema.

3\. Jimin was hot. But that, he already knew.

 

The next stop was Jungkook’s. He was now in a university campus, where his lessons were held. As always, he was early but didn’t linger turning immediately to the right where the music department was situated. He'd have the practice room for him alone in the half an hour that followed if everything went down as usual.

 

The phone buzzed in his chest pocket.

**Bro: // I changed my mind, I really like that shirt. You can't have it.//**

He expected so much, but it didn’t mean he wouldn't steal it again. Too engrossed in finding a witty response, he didn’t see the cobblestone pointing up from the otherwise regular pavement and tripped on it, trying to regain balance with all the ungraciousness he managed. His arms flew up and around until the phone in his right one hit on a passenger's temple.

-YOU LITTLE- said passenger grabbed him by the biceps, one arm lifted, ready to punch. “I’m so sorry!” he squeezed in right before the punch he expected to land on his nose, eyes shut in fear.

He stopped and let go.

 

\- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry, he repeated like a broken record still too afraid to open his eyes. Not because he was threatened, but because he hit someone with a phone and wasn't ready to face his angry expression.

-I get it, you can stop now. The voice was strangely familiar, not one he heard often but one he definitely could put a face and name on if he thought hard enough. He didn’t give Jungkook the time to, shaking him lightly so that his eyes opened in mild surprise.

\- Hi, he wasn’t exactly smiling but one couldn’t call it a frown either. Something in between pain and amusement.

 

\- Jimin? It was hard to choose what to say first. Apologise for hitting him? Ask him if it hurts? Ask him if his knee is doing any better? Did he go to get it checked? Was Jungkook's barbaric bandage still stuck to his leg?

It suddenly felt weird to think about how someone completely unrelated to him wandered around with tape and tissues he put on him.

 

_Not just someone. Jimin._

 

-So...What's a thug like you doing in a campus like this? Probably not the best thing he could've asked.

 

-Thug… It was said in lowest of tones, he almost missed it. As though the word disgusted him, saddened him. Coming from a boy who had nothing to do with his lifestyle even more so.

 

\- I hope it doesn’t bruise, he says reaching for the spot he hit.

 

 _I hit The Park Jimin_.

He grabbed his hand right before it touched his forehead, staring dead straight at him.

 

_I Inflicted pain to The Park Jimin and now he’s gonna return the favor!_

 

His grip wasn't kind. Never seemed to be. Jungkook flinched in pain, Jimin's thumb pressing at the exact same spot as before. Seeing the bruised state of Jungkook's wrist his eyes opened in utter shock, so did his fingers uncurling to set his arm free.

He stepped back stuttering, “I-I’m so.. Did I do that?” Jungkook nodded before pulling his sleeve back down.

\- I didn’t know it would-

-Don't worry, that’s because I'm a wimp. I bruise all the time. It wasn't exactly a lie but anyone would’ve turned blue and purple under Jimin’s fingers if he used that much strength. Of that he was sure.

 

 

 

……...

 

 

Wimp… Jimin let the word repeat in his brain, it was still weird to hear someone like Jungkook use such vocabulary. It was even weirder that he felt so guilty over hurting someone. Sure he could use the excuse that jungkook looked as weak as a girl but it wasn’t just that. Because he had hurt girls before. Not girls in white pants and baby blue shirts, not girls with soft cheeks and small silver crosses attached to their ears, but still girls. Girls with boobs, girls with nice legs, girls with long hair, too. Just not girls, or soft boys in this case, who didn't want to hurt him and he didn't want to hurt back. Be it in bed or in street fights, he couldn't remember hurting anyone that didn't want to hurt him.

 

His guilt, imprinted in dark blue on Jungkook's arm. He could still see it through the opaque sleeve of his shirt. Carved in his memory, eating away at the last bit of conscience that was left intact in his sinful world.

 

His temple hurt like a bitch but he wouldn't give the honor of seeing him suffer from pain to the same person twice. On the same day at that. _No fucking way_.

 

\- How's your knee? Jimin just shrugged. _Not too bad thanks to you_ , he wanted to say.

Small talk wasn’t what he excelled at, neither did he enjoy it. He considered walking away but just couldn’t. For one, because this situation was kinda weird, and also because the boy wasn't moving away either. ”Dunno.”

 

\- what do you mean “dunno”? Don't tell me you still have that tape on! Why didn't you go to the hospital? Jungkook crouched down lifting one end of his pants to check. Jimin shook him off as if he were a noisy poodle. He landed on his butt, looking up like one.

-None of your business.

That was not the smoothest way to exit a conversation.

 _Who the fuck does he think he's yelling at?_  

He had to be around his age so why. Why did he act so high and mighty? He was no moron. He could take care of himself just fine. He didn’t need the advice of someone he didn’t even know.

Jimin's fingers flinched, instinctively thinking of reaching out to help him up. He knew better than to do so and simply shoved them into his hoodie leaving Jungkook behind, a little confused but mostly worried about the knee that lacked proper treatment.

He looked back at him to check if he was still sitting on the pavement only to see him blow on his left palm, wincing and hissing when the cool air caressed what Jimin supposed was scratches from catching his fall with his hands. In order not to feel sorry again, he blamed it on his weak ass skin. It would do that pampered kid good.

The poor endured pain better because they usually hurt themselves more. That was part of a complete life.

 

 

Still, he felt like shit.


	4. Social classes

-What’s up with the gangsta outfit? A young boy was seated on Jungkook's usual spot in the classroom. He cursed innerly for being held back by the encounter with Jimin who, by the way, turned out to be just as rude as people said he was. “Say, I really missed my spot! I’m glad you didn’t show up before me today” he sat beside him, not minding it too much. 

 

-Enjoy it while you can Yoongi, there won't be no next time.

 

\- You know… It just seems wrong to me. He leaned forward with his elbow on the desk and his face resting in his hand. 

 

-What does?

 

\- I’m older, like 3 whole years older. Don't you think it's time you stop being so bratty and start calling me-

\- Fuck, for the last time. I'm not calling you Oppa... 

 

\- At least call me Hyung or something! He threw himself completely over the desk to express his despair, cheek resting against the cold wood. Jeez, youngsters these days have no respect, even cursing to my face and all. 

\- Who do you think I learned cursing from?! Yoongi pointed at himself faking a shocked expression at the accusation. How come you're so early today? Jungkook continue to change the topic.

 

-Had someone to meet, he left not long ago… Didn’t even bring food with him. Yoongi digged his hand in his back pocket to pull out a few coins. “Kookie...Be nice to this starving Oppa for once and go buy me some snacks at the vending machine” he slid them over to his side. 

 

\- Forget it. Jungkook slid them back until they were stuck under his cheek.

 

\- You used to be so cute when you first came here, so tiny and nice. Always listening well when I told you to do stuff. He propped his upper body up as if it were the hardest chore in his life and sighed heavily. “There is enough for you to buy something too. Come on, do me this favor, I'm reaaaaaaally hungry, you know?”

 

-Stop trying to act cute, it's creepy. The coins had left small red circles on his skin and Jungkook would lie if he said it wasn't endearing. He always had a hard time resisting Yoongi’s pleading but refused to be used by him any longer. This grown man needed to learn that he should move his ass for his own interests. 

 

\- People would be shocked if they knew how heartless you really are. He shaked his head dramatically. Come on, I'll trade seats with you. 

 

At that Jungkook grabbed the money wordlessly and exited the classroom while the rest of the students slowly came in, filling the room little by little. He planned on spending every single cent he gave him, though it wasn't all that much. 

 

……….

 

A rocking chair.

The crazy shit Taehyung brought back this time was a rocking chair. In quite good state at that. “Sit, Hyung!” He held the chair urging Jimin to try it out. The latter didn't take long before doing so.  
As expected, it was comfortable. 

-Weren't you supposed to eat out with your dad today? 

-I sneaked out, no way I'm sitting alone with that Jerk.

-Don't be so rude, he's still a parent.

 

-You know what I mean, Hyung… Jimin knew very well. He knew how many hours of sleep his friends gave up on to try and keep up with the grades his father expected from him. Always top of his school. Nose bleeding, hair falling. "I want to disappear. Jimin, I wish my father forgot I existed. I wish I could be like you."

He would never let Tae become like him. Not tae. He was too good for such a shitty lifestyle. There was no future for himself, but he was convinced that his best friend could, and would reach the sky if he aimed for it.   
It did, however, make his heart drop to see Taehyung's smile falter more and more with each day that passed. 

 

'I wish I could Disappear' 

 

Jimin feared that if he cut ties with him, the boy might do something stupid. Something far more stupid than asking Jimin to punch him in the guts. Far more more stupid than stealing school properties because some younger kid he hung out with more than with his own classmates asked him to. Far more stupid than trying to take Jimin’s cigarettes from his pockets because of a dare. 

 

Don't ruin him, Jimin.

Yoongi’s voice echoed in his head as a warning every time he enjoyed his time with tae a little too much. Of course Yoongi would worry about his younger brother being influenced by someone like Jimin. 

-I know, Tae... I know. He ruffled his own hair in distress. Taehyung sat cross legged on the carpet in front of which they placed the chair. He hit jimin’s leg playfully with a rolled magazine not listening to the other’s request to stop until he hit his knee and Jimin squealed.   
Taehyung's eyes flew open, he had never heard his friend's voice go so high in the whole 4 years he had known him.

“I-I didn’t even hit that hard,sorry… you okay?” 

A dark spot started to form on his pants. “Shit, Jimin … “ 

Jimin lifted his pants up one leg to inspect the wound that bled anew, under Taehyung'’s alerted stare. He unwrapped the first layer of tape but was afraid of peeling the one sticking to his skin off. 

-You do it, he leaned his head back on the head rest, mentally preparing for what was to come. Taehyun took the beginning of the second roll off only to see the rest unwrap willingly. “It's off”

-What? There were tissues teared and stuck neatly on the sticky part of the tape so it wouldn't glue to his skin. Thoughtful. 

As if he didn't feel guilty enough not only for treating him like a dog but also for omitting to thank the boy.

\- What the fuck!? Did the other dude own a weapon? Taehyung stared at the cut in horror. Who was it? I’ll avenge you. Just tell me his name.

\- Who the fuck do you think you're avenging here… Besides, no one did this to me. Was admitting to his best friend that he tripped on stairs really a good Idea? Probably a better idea than having him look for a culprit who didn't exist until he actually got himself caught in some quarrels. “I tripped, dude. Chill”

 

……..

 

Jungkook liked the first desk to the right at the very front. It was full of scribbles, not random. Someone completed his doodles sometime in his absence. Adding wings to his cats, combat boots to his ducks, luscious hair to his portrait of their bald music theory teacher. Sometimes Jungkook would be the one to customise that person’s pictures. They exchanged a few words too. Some sort of pen pals if one liked to see it that way. In order to never interrupt the cycle, he had to sit there, each time. 

This time his pal had erased the rest of the drawings to occupy a good quarter of the desk wit a new one. He had drawn a user’s guide with clear instructions and neat illustrations.

 

How to attend a knee cut:

1\. Clean around the wound with a wet cloth/tissue 

2\. Fold clean tissues in four and press them against the cut to stop the bleeding.

3\. Fix the folded tissues by circling the knee with duct tape like a savage. 

4\. Yell at the injured person to go see a doctor.

 

He was speechless to say the least.

Next to him, Yoongi tried slipping his hand on his lap where a bag of mini cookies rested. So long the teacher hadn't spotted his secret meal. The cookies melted slowly in his mouth. Chewing them would make too much noise.


End file.
